


In Your Dreams

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [60]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Just Pure Comfort, M/M, no angst whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Nick's too wrapped up in a case and Greg pulls him out of it and brings him to bed.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257824
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	In Your Dreams

“I’m gonna head to bed, you coming?” Greg yawns. He stretches his arms out, rubs the back of his head. Nick doesn’t dare look up from his work, otherwise he would most definitely join him–he can’t say no to those beautiful, sleepy eyes, those slightly pouting lips–the case he’s working on is important, needs every ounce of his attention.

No distractions.

“I’ll be there in a minute, just wanna look this over one more time…” Nick mutters as he pushes this glasses up the bridges of his nose. 

“You say that, and yet I have the feeling you’re about to pull an all-nighter staring at photos and memorizing your case file,” Greg walks over and closes the manila folder, slides the glasses off of Nick’s face with gentle, nimble fingers, and plants a kiss on Nick’s forehead.

Nick’s eyelashes flutter at the gesture, his cheeks blossom into a soft pink, but he still sighs and reaches for his laptop.

“Nuh-uh. Bed. C’mon,” Greg grabs the laptop and gently tosses onto the unoccupied side of the couch. 

“Just…five more minutes, G,” Nick stammers, holding up a hand but Greg pulls the hand, lifts Nick off the couch. He wraps an arm around Nick, pulling him to his side, leans his head on his shoulder.

“You, me, a nice soft bed, maybe I’ll light a candle or two, you’ll be floating on Cloud Nine in no time.”

“But I need–”

“No buts! Unless you’re talking about mine or yours, though I was thinking this was gonna be a more cuddly night–but anyway, you know as well as I do, nothing helps a tough nut to crack than a good night’s sleep.”

“You talking about me or the case?” 

Greg pauses as they cross the threshold of the bedroom. 

“Hmm…both, I guess.” 

Nick chuckles and shakes his head, moves to sit on the bed.

“Whoa, what’re you doing, you’re not going to sleep in jeans and a dress shirt.” 

“I gotta get up early, gotta go interview–”

“You will have _plenty_ of time, don’t be such a worry wart,” Greg walks over to the dresser, pulls out a pair of Nick’s sweatpants and a college t-shirt. He throws them to his partner, before he walks over to the other side of the bed and fluffs the pillows.

“Don’t be shy on my account, though if you ask me, you could do with a wash-up anyway. When was the last time you showered?”

“Gee, thanks, G.” 

“It’s what I”m here for.” 

“What, ordering me around and distracting me from my job?”

“You clocked out three hours ago, Nick, and no, I mean the whole self-care thing. For someone who touts about eating healthy and getting more sleep than Sara does in a week, you are terrible at realizing when you need a break.”

“You continue to flatter me,” Nick peels off his shirt and shimmies off his jeans, and by the time he puts on his sweatpants and old t-shirt, he’s yawning, too.

“Though I guess you do have a point,” he grunts as he gets settled on the bed. Greg once again wraps an arm around him, his head falls on Greg’s chest. Greg begins to pet his hair, fluffing it up and patting it back down again. “Thanks, Greg. I mean it.”

“Anytime,” Greg kisses the top of Nick’s head, and Nick lifts his head up to give Greg a kiss on his lips before he shifts against the wall of pillows behind their bodies. He feels his eyes get heavier with every blink, feels Greg continue to pet his body and hold him in the embrace of his arms, though he does allow a storm to downpour in his brain over possible solutions to the puzzle of his case. He falls asleep and enters a dreamland of an evidence layout room, all of the crime scene photos pinned to the wall, the body on the illuminated table in front of him. The words of various interviews and statements and field reports floating around him like a circular teleprompter. Ambient noises of the chirps and beeps of lab equipment, but nobody else is around.

Nobody except Greg, who walks into the room and grabs his hand. 

“Not even in your dreams, Stokes,” he whispers to him, and leads him out of the lab, back into the bedroom where he undresses Nick and showers him with pleasurable, shudder-inducing kisses, before he lays his body down on the softest bed in the world, though it’s only comfortable as long Greg Sanders is besides him. 


End file.
